


Siren Song

by queenhomeslice



Series: I Wanna Ride My Chocoboy All Day: Prompto/Reader Stories [24]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, F/M, MerMay, Mermaids, One-Shot, Siren Reader, Sirens, Unresolved, fat reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24482170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Prompto goes with the guys on a fishing trip and learns about the Leviathan's Children.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Reader
Series: I Wanna Ride My Chocoboy All Day: Prompto/Reader Stories [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554340
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	Siren Song

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.  
> ______
> 
> Hi I made up my own lore because I'm good at that (making up random shit, I mean). I'm not an artist, and it's May 31st, but—here's my MerMay contribution.

  
Prompto’s so excited he’s shaking, cheap camera in jittery hands as he watches the approaching shore. Now that he and Noct are out of school, and now that he finally passed his Crownsguard test, the king had allowed the four of them—Noct, Iggy, Gladio, and himself—to take a road trip to Cape Caem and borrow his personal yacht. Prompto’s a pleb, he’s never been to the sea, or on a boat, or anything as exciting as a road trip and fishing trip with his three best friends. He’s never even been outside of the Wall, outside of Insomnia—and yet here he is, all the way out in Cleigne. 

“I see the sea!” Prompto exclaims, sitting up a little in the front seat, bouncing up and down. 

“Prompto, please sit,” says Ignis, only mildly annoyed. He pulls up as close as he can to the outpost. There are steps up to an old, beat-up lighthouse. Once he kills the engine, the boys hop out of the car, retrieve their bags from the trunk—Noct's fishing poles are in the Armiger—and throw a tarp over the Regalia. 

“How are we getting to the boat?” asks Prompto, taking pictures of every little thing he deems interesting. 

“Elevator in the lighthouse, takes you down to a secret dock,” says Noctis, pulling him by the wrist up the steps. “Dad used to take me fishing on the boat all the time before he started to...” Noct’s voice trails. 

Prompto nods. “Before he started having the mobility issues, huh,” he finishes quietly. 

“Yeah.” Noct clenches his jaw and leads his entourage up to the lighthouse. Ignis tosses him the keys, and the prince finds the small golden key that unlocks the weathered door. 

Ignis steers them halfway to Altissia in record time, Noctis going full nerd about how all the best fish are closer to Accordo than to the Lucian coastline. There are three bedrooms in the yacht with two full beds in two of the rooms, and a queen-size bed in the other—Noct takes the largest bed, naturally, leaving the others to choose among themselves. Ignis invites Prompto to room with him, leaving Gladio alone in the third bedroom. Prompto’s elated—he wants to get to know the other two better than he already does—what better way than to share a bedroom? At least he has his own bed. Gladio throws on sinfully tight swimwear immediately, diving off the port bow, despite Prompto’s worried pleas about sharks. Ignis nonchalantly tosses a floatie ring into the water and goes down to the galley to start unpacking their foodstuffs. Noctis dresses down into a tank top, board shorts, and a ball cap, holding his fishing pole and tackle box like they’re made of gold. Prompto’s so happy for his best friend, he could puke. No rules, no princely duties, for four whole days. This is the life. 

Prompto dresses down in a pair of black demin cutoffs and a yellow tank top with a cartoony chocobo printed across the front and settles on the starboard side of the boat so he won’t disturb Noct. He wants to take some pictures while they still have some daylight left. The sun is making the sea look like a floor of diamonds, and if Prompto squints, he thinks he can see the craggy coast of Accordo. He wishes he had a better camera, but his old childhood one will have to do. He adjusts the settings for the brightest daylight and snaps a few shots, bare feet dangling over the edge of the royal yacht. He’s never seen water so blue, and the horizon just goes on and on forever. Prompto sighs dreamily and stares out at the ocean, hoping to see something exciting. 

The blond doesn’t realize that he’s dozed off until the singing brings him to just this side of consciousness. It’s high-pitched, haunting, calling him somewhere, calling him home. He sits up with a start—the horizon is painted with pink and purple, clouds moving listlessly to the east. His camera is on its face beside him, back screen blank—dead. 

“Damn,” Prompto whispers. He sighs, but supposes it’s getting too dark to take anymore pictures anyway. He scrubs at his eyes, wondering if he was imagining the singing, or if Iggy was jamming out to opera music from below in the kitchen. Then he hears a splash, and blinks into the encroaching night—and that’s when he sees the tail. 

It’s a thick tail, but it’s long, with shimmery sea-green scales, and two transparent fins at the tip. Prompto racks his brain trying to remember high school science class—but no familiar sea creature comes to mind. He stares for several more seconds, but only light rocking waves are in his eyesight as the sun sinks below the horizon. 

“Well, it doesn’t sound like a dolphin, or any sort of small whale,” says Ignis as he plates the fish Noctis caught. Fried red snapper over rice pilaf, with a vegetable roux smothering the dish. Noctis raises a dark eyebrow, but Ignis has chopped the vegetables so fine that not even Noctis can pick them out—so the prince begrudgingly eats it, but secretly smiles when Ignis turns away. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was a...like a mermaid, or something,” Prompto mutters sheepishly, knowing he sounds stupid. “And I mean, the singing—didn’t you guys hear the singing?” 

Gladio shrugs, shoulders and chest three shades tanner than he was at six am this morning. Prompto looks away, blushing—it's not fair how gorgeous his friends are. Noct got darker too—Prompto had to apply 100 SPF, and he’s still ruddy, freckles on his cheeks and shoulders and collarbones dark under his light lobster skin. Only Ignis has retained his light skin color (not that it diminishes his beauty in any way, _gods_ no). 

“Dunno, was swimmin’ around all day,” says Gladio around dinner and his beer. “You sure you weren’t just hearing the radio?” 

“No one turned on the radio, Gladiolus,” says Ignis, finally sitting with his own plate now that they’ve all been served. “Don’t worry Prompto, I believe you.” 

“It’s okay, I know I sound—wait, what?” Prompto drops his fork. “You...you do?” 

“Of course.” Ignis sips his bottle of imported water. “Gladio, Noct—do you not remember the stories of Leviathan’s Children?” 

“Whaaaaaat,” Noctis drawls, cramming his cheeks with fish like a chipmunk. “Thas’ jus’ fairytales, Specs.” 

“Just because we are not at court does not mean you can act like a savage, Noct. Please chew your food before you speak.” 

Prompto’s unconsciously on the edge of his seat, staring at Ignis as though he’s a god. “Leviathan’s...children...?” 

“No offense, Prompto, but it’s not something taught in the common schools. The lore is passed down to the lines of the Oracles and the rulers of Lucis.” 

Gladio’s big honey eyes widen in realization. “Oh, shit. Now I remember. Yeah, Iggy tell us about them. Been a while.” 

“Honestly, you could stand to read a little history now and again in lieu of those dime store harlequin romance novels.” Ignis clears his throat as Gladio squawks in protest. 

Prompto and Noctis giggle, continuing to stuff their faces like children as they listen to Ignis. 

“After the lines of Lucis and the Oracle were established by the gods, Leviathan, fed up with the squabbling of her brothers and sisters, decided that she should have her own chosen race of humanity. She bestowed a select few of her most devout followers with an incredible gift—that of dual traits, both man and fish. Over the millennia, Leviathan’s Children have evolved into two similar groups—the merfolk, and the sirens. Sirens are exclusively women, and are incredible songstresses. It is said that they sing in the language of the gods, forever praising Leviathan for her gift. Both groups of hybrid humans are able to morph into mortals at will—but most do not, preferring the company of the sea and of Leviathan herself than to their oxygen-breathing counterparts.” 

Prompto’s pretty sure his jaw is on the floor as Ignis finishes his history lesson. 

“You should feel lucky, Prompto. Few humans ever hear or see sirens.” 

“Don’t they lure men to their deaths, or something,” says Noctis, swallowing the last of his dinner. 

Ignis scoffs and waves his hand. “Old wives’ tales meant to keep children from going too near the water. Sirens actually save sailors that are in peril.” 

“I bet they’re beautiful,” sighs Prompto dreamily, finally going back to his slightly-cool dinner. He gobbles up the rest, then bounds to his shared bedroom and plugs his camera up to charge. 

The next morning, Ignis treats them all to waffles, fruit salad, and ham-and-cheese toaster sandwiches. Noctis settles on the bow and casts his line. Prompto doesn’t even take stock in what the other two are doing—he's got the camera strap snug against his wrist as he paces back and forth along the starboard side of King Regis’ yacht, hoping to see the tail again. 

_______ 

“You’re still out here?” 

Prompto snaps out of his dream about the heavenly singing of the sirens—he's drooling over the railing of the boat, and he can feel the blistering stripe of sunburn on his neck from where he’d failed to reapply sunscreen. He looks around for the voice, disoriented for a few minutes—but none of the guys are within his eyesight. “Huh, wha...? Noct, Iggy? Gladio?” Prompto moves to get up and stand, wincing as he rolls his head back. He hopes Ignis has some burn curatives on him. 

“No silly. Down here.” 

Prompto feels time slow down, his heart fluttering a mile a minute as he leans over the edge of the railing and stares down into the crystal blue ocean. 

The siren is poking her head out of the water—all Prompto can see is her long trail of ______ hair floating out behind her, her cute, chubby cheeks, and her webbed ears. Her ______ skin is iridescent, almost glittering rainbow colors in the bright afternoon sun. 

“Hi,” says the siren, and brings a webbed hand above the water to wave. 

“Ho-lee shiiiiiit,” says Prompto, slumping back down, letting his feet dangle over the side again. He wishes he were brave enough to just jump into the ocean after this beautiful creature. “You...you’re _real_.” 

The siren giggles, high-pitched and light. 

Prompto thinks he’s in love. 

“What’s your name?” the siren asks. 

“I—uh—Prompto,” says Prompto, still unsure if he’s still dreaming or not. “Prompto Argentum.” Telling a siren your name isn’t bad, right? Prompto thinks he might remember some story about how you shouldn’t tell a fae creature your name, but he’s too far gone to care at this point. The siren’s gorgeous _____ eyes are drawing him in. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m ___________.” 

“Oh, that’s...that’s beautiful,” Prompto breathes. “Can you, uh—sing?” 

“You want me to sing?” 

Prompto nods furiously. “I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

The siren, __________, shrugs, and begins her song. 

_______ 

When Prompto wakes up, it’s near night, and the siren is gone. He sighs and stands, hissing at his even more-burned neck. 


End file.
